


The Blizzard in the Hour

by Destiny_in_the_Universe



Series: Holmes Holidays [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Christmas Special, Fluff, Holidays, Holmes Brothers, Mycroft Feels, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16793749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_in_the_Universe/pseuds/Destiny_in_the_Universe
Summary: "When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what the storm is about."Mycroft and Sherlock end up forced to be in each other's company when a blizzard hits Baker Street





	The Blizzard in the Hour

It hadn’t meant to happen this way, but in the long run their efforts proved futile. Sherlock Holmes, consultant detective, had been busily on a case when the lead he obtained faltered, which ended up forcing the raven-haired man back to the flat. He bit back a shiver as he pulled his coat closer to him, fishing out the keys, moments from turning the door to go inside. The blue-eyed individual snarled suddenly as he heard a sharp noise, like a sudden click, quickly realizing that it was the movements of an umbrella. He would’ve preferred it if John had been at the flat, but the doctor was off on some date elsewhere. 

“What do you want?” Sherlock hissed, turning back around to glare at his older brother, Mycroft, the literal representative of the British government. 

“I didn’t think it was such a crime to swing by and visit, brother mine,” Mycroft smiled, his words laced with a rather sharp tongue, eyes shining with pure amusement as he saw the look of annoyance flashing in his little brother’s expression. 

“I never asked for you to come. So why are you here?” Sherlock hissed out. He was trying to get a deduction out of Mycroft, especially with the fact that it was so exceedingly rare that the auburn-haired male actually made his presence known. The few times he did appear were either to check up on Sherlock or if there was any truly important matter that needed to be brought to attention.

“Oh, Sherlock,” Mycroft sighed, the irritation clear in his voice. “I did intend to simply pass by, although…” he paused, frowning, as he noticed the weather was quickly getting colder. Eyes narrowing, he also began to see the pieces of snow falling onto the ground of the apartments. 

Sherlock clicked his tongue, before sighing in frustration, like a child who hadn’t been given the toy they wanted, letting the door open and allowing for Mycroft to come inside. 

“Do try not touch anything,” the consultant replied smoothly, entering the flat and heading towards the kitchen, beginning to fix up a tea, his older brother following suit behind him. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Mycroft replied smoothly. 

“I would say go on home, but it does appear like we’re about to get a blizzard.” Sherlock frowned as he saw the snow start to fall faster now. He sighed deeply, not having much of a choice than to keep Mycroft in the flat. Despite their differences, he wasn’t about to toss out his brother to the curb and risk somehow killing him. It seemed illogical, but Sherlock wasn’t too fond of the idea. 

“Lovely,” Mycroft sighed, the government official leaning onto his umbrella. He glanced outside, seeing how the snow had already begun to stick. 

  
  


Sherlock had ended up making a second cup of tea for his brother, leaving it on the table, then turning his attention on starting conversation for once. 

“Mycroft, I do take it you had actual business in coming here,” the consultant sighed, beginning to question the motives of the government official showing up out of nowhere. Their last encounter at the flat had only involved an argument since Sherlock, as usual, had gotten himself involved in a case and nearly gotten shot, which was only prevented because Mycroft had a few agents intervene and weaken the shooter, though Sherlock hadn’t figured out it had been his brother’s doing. 

“Oh, brother mine,” Mycroft began, his words clipped. “I do take it you don’t truly care, though if you’re interested… the answer is simple, isn’t it?” 

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, realizing that it wasn’t making sense to him. There was no reason for Mycroft coming here without it being related to something truly important. Why didn’t he understand this? There was something he was clearly missing. 

It was only the middle of… oh. Oh! Of course, it all made sense! 

“You really did want to see me, didn’t you?” Sherlock frowned. Something about this didn’t sit well with him, especially considering that neither brother had an excellent relationship with the other. “Why?” He asked, his lips suddenly twisting into a sneer. 

“Sherlock-” 

“I would have thought you had other important matters than coming to see me.” Sherlock went on to antagonize the elder Holmes. He frowned briefly when Mycroft looked away, the auburn-haired avoiding eye contact with the consulting detective. Something twisted at the younger male, his worry getting worse when he realized Mycroft wasn’t speaking. 

“I will get out of your way, if it is that big a problem, brother mine.” Mycroft said softly, though his words were still tinged with a sense of frustration, and began to stand, heading towards the front door. He opened the door briefly, suddenly hit with cold air and snow, causing him to quickly slam the door shut. 

Sherlock sprang to his feet, the raven-haired consultant pulling Mycroft away, easing him to the couch. He frowned, “you shouldn’t have done that. You walk out there in that blizzard and you’ll freeze.” 

Mycroft bit back a chuckle, though his lips formed a small smile. He allowed himself to be led into what would be considered the living room, letting Sherlock gesture towards the couch. Without saying anything, he sat down, his younger brother going to sit beside him. 

“What’s troubling you, Myc?” Sherlock asked softly, his tone becoming much more softer, reverting back to the nickname he’d given Mycroft when they’d still been young. 

“It’s the holidays, brother mine,” Mycroft frowned, eyes downcast to the ground. “I… would rather not spend them alone.” 

Sherlock fell silent out of nowhere, the consultant not knowing entirely how to answer. He suddenly turned to Mycroft, a soft smile forming. 

“You won’t be alone this year.” Sherlock finally broke the silence. He watched suddenly as Mycroft visibly beamed and pulled the raven-haired male into a hug. The blue-eyed thirty-one-year-old stiffened briefly, before ultimately going slack and returning the kind gesture that occured out of nowhere. 

These kind of moments wouldn’t last forever. Mycroft pulled back, the auburn-haired male frowning, his good mood having vanished. 

“I-” Mycroft swallowed thickly, eyes slightly parted. “Why, Sherlock? Why now? You never cared before.” 

“I… do care, but I just never thought.... You hate Christmas,” Sherlock commented, sighing. He didn’t really know what to say to make this better. “I thought you had such a  _ perfect  _ life. I will be here for you, just this once.” 

Once was enough, Mycroft gathered and he intended to make sure it stayed that way. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
